You Know What I Keep In The Lining
One of the simpler joys of television production is that you get to be a tourist on the company dime, unashamedly going places that are more of the hoi polloi than the hipster douchebag fucks [I] usually cavort with. This is how I made it to the top of the Empire State Building without having to wait in line. This is also how you end up on one of the pedestal lookouts on Mt. Washington (I realize this corollary is a little wanky, as there are no lines for the pedestal lookouts on Mt. Washington, but follow me, would you?).
You also tend to eat well -- especially when doing food shows -- or at least eat uniquely. Here we have the Primanti Brothers' flagship location in Pittsburgh. The sandwich has a meat, a cheese, a cole slaw, a tomato, a handful of french fries between italian bread. It's a sandwich designed for truckers who would take them to go. Pretty soon everyone (specifically stoner college kids) started consuming them, as is the case when something utilitarian becomes bougie (cf. Underarmor and those ridiculous telephone earpieces).
Let it be known that nothing we've eaten this trip has been particularly healthy. I've been trying to cram salads and fruit behind (or in front of) every meal, but I'm still left feeling logy and listless and gross. Granted, I've not done a good of of taking care of myself for the last month or so anyway, so the effect is compounded.
An Observation:
The North Side of Pittsburgh is BEGGING for gentrification! Not only is there a charming, colorful area called the "Mexican War Streets", but there are old man bars that only need Ms. Pac-Man to become destinations! There is a YMCA with a bitchin' sign (picture to come) that will provide a tasteful amount of transient low-lifes and charming brownstone row homes that lack only kooky white artisans to make them complete! I suggest that we (my peers, and my only occasional readership) buy a block of these homes and do them up right so that by the time the NEXT real estate crash comes, we'll be goddamn gajillionaires.
Later, BUFFALO.
You also tend to eat well -- especially when doing food shows -- or at least eat uniquely. Here we have the Primanti Brothers' flagship location in Pittsburgh. The sandwich has a meat, a cheese, a cole slaw, a tomato, a handful of french fries between italian bread. It's a sandwich designed for truckers who would take them to go. Pretty soon everyone (specifically stoner college kids) started consuming them, as is the case when something utilitarian becomes bougie (cf. Underarmor and those ridiculous telephone earpieces).
Let it be known that nothing we've eaten this trip has been particularly healthy. I've been trying to cram salads and fruit behind (or in front of) every meal, but I'm still left feeling logy and listless and gross. Granted, I've not done a good of of taking care of myself for the last month or so anyway, so the effect is compounded.
An Observation:
The North Side of Pittsburgh is BEGGING for gentrification! Not only is there a charming, colorful area called the "Mexican War Streets", but there are old man bars that only need Ms. Pac-Man to become destinations! There is a YMCA with a bitchin' sign (picture to come) that will provide a tasteful amount of transient low-lifes and charming brownstone row homes that lack only kooky white artisans to make them complete! I suggest that we (my peers, and my only occasional readership) buy a block of these homes and do them up right so that by the time the NEXT real estate crash comes, we'll be goddamn gajillionaires.
Later, BUFFALO.
Labels: food, north side, pittsburgh, primanti bros, work
POSTED BY rgin AT 8:42 AM1 COMMENTS
